


The Shock of Being Seen

by betterrecieved



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 10:09:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3286421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betterrecieved/pseuds/betterrecieved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ty for the prompt venomedveins :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shock of Being Seen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [venomedveins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/venomedveins/gifts).



Nasir has to give it to Castus: The restaurant Castus has chosen for their fifth date is tasteful and gorgeous, all glossy dark wood and subtle wall sconces. The small candle set in a crystal bowl in the middle of their table plays light and shadow across the sharp planes of Castus’ handsome face, highlighting his high cheekbones in the softly lit room.

It’s definitely not Castus’ usual style, which consists mainly of full-throttle hedonism. Nasir tells him so.

“I know you like things a little more on the…quiet side. See, I told you I can give you everything you want.” Castus smirks suggestively. “Happy Valentine’s.”

“Happy Valentine’s.” Nasir manages a tight smile in response to Castus’ innuendo. It’s always like this, the spoken and unspoken pull toward what Castus wants from Nasir, and all Nasir can do is try to maintain some kind of physical distance between them so that he doesn’t end up feeling any more like prey than he already does.

Maybe it’s just the good part of Nasir that’s still hopeful for more than just the thrill of instant attraction. Maybe it’s the bad part of him, the part he fears more than reliving the worst parts of his patchwork past: Maybe this is all there is to him, being a prize, a trophy in a game of seduction.

Nasir bites his bottom lip, lowers his eyes to his rapidly cooling entree, picking at his plate. He knows he should say something to let Castus know that he’s more than a pretty face, knows he *could* say something, if Castus weren’t looking at him so intently.

When Nasir absorbs himself in adjusting the cloth napkin spread across his lap, the slippery satin cloth gets away from his fidgeting hands and flutters to the floor.

Nasir bends to retrieve it, more for an excuse to gather himself than anything. But before the slip of fabric can hit the floor, a large tan hand snatches it out of the air.

“Thank you,” Nasir murmurs, barely turning his head. He starts to straighten up, feels resistance when he tries to pull his napkin back into his lap. Nasir furrows his brow, raises his eyes up to find penetrating green eyes staring down at him.

“I’m - thank you.” He fists the cloth in his hand, but the other man is a giant to him, looks like he’s at least six-foot-one judging by the length of his well-muscled arms, the sprawl of his long legs under the table beside Nasir.

It’s an awkward, puzzling situation, but somehow not *unpleasant*, not with the man’s handsome, self-assured face softly smiling down on him, those eyes silently promising something Nasir can’t exactly fathom, but feels like he could comprehend if he only had a little more time to…

Nasir cuts his eyes over to Castus, but his date appears to be absorbed in impressing the waiter with his knowledge of expensive wines. “I…” The stranger’s wide shoulders loom over Nasir, the man’s muscles straining through his dress shirt, and Nasir tries to fight against the ridiculous feeling that the rest of the restaurant has fallen away into the void, that the man leaning over him is somehow conjuring some sort of separate space just for Nasir.

“Tiramisu?”

Before Nasir can form a response to that riddle, or think about how insane he’s being right now, the man’s finger is in his mouth, and Nasir is sucking it dry.

“You’re welcome.” The man smirks. He reaches across Nasir’s lap, smooths the napkin back over Nasir’s thighs. Trails his fingers down Nasir’s outer thigh as he moves his hand away.

Nasir nearly slides out of his seat at the touch, has to cover his long gasping intake of breath with a cough as he abruptly rises to his feet.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” he explains lamely at Castus’ questioning look. It’s not a lie, exactly - splashing some cold water over his face is probably the best thing to do right now, when his stomach is flipping from a strange man’s casual touch.

In the restroom Nasir chides himself for his overreaction, for over-thinking his fledgling relationship with Castus. He stands in front of the sink for a couple of minutes with his hands cupped, staring at the beads of cold water that run down his face.

When he walks out of the restroom he crashes face-first into a hard chest.

“Sorry.” He’s flustered and verging on aggravated; this night hasn’t gone anything like what he’d imagined: Romantic meal, Castus finally understanding that Nasir wants more than the thrill of the chase, Nasir feeling secure enough to finally sleep with him.

Strong hands close around Nasir’s arms before he can step around the tall frame blocking his escape. “Hey. You alright?”

Nasir cranes his neck. His face flushes when he sees that it’s the guy who kidnapped his napkin. “I’m…” The man’s eyes looking down on him are soft and concerned, the warmth of the other man’s hands seep through Nasir’s shirt. Nasir can’t look away. “No…No,” he finds himself admitting.

“That guy bothering you?” Something fierce flares up in the stranger’s eyes, and Nasir has a feeling that if he says ‘Yes,’ that the stranger could- *would* take care of it.

“No.” That’s not a lie either. He’s the one bothering himself with his self-doubt. “He’s okay.”

The stranger shows no sign of letting him go, though. Patrons stream around them, brushing lightly against Nasir as they file in and out of the restroom, but nobody makes a fuss to a guy as big as the one who’s stroking his hands up and down Nasir’s arms.

“…Agron.”

“What?” Nasir shakes himself out of his daze, out of falling into the surprising comfort of the other man’s touch.

“My name. Agron.” Agron smiles down at him, a charmed smile like he knows where Nasir’s mind has flown to and is gently reeling him back to where they really are.

“I’m Nasir,” Nasir tells him. He wants to tell Agron everything, everything he can remember, everything about himself, because Agron is looking at him like he would like to know.

“He’s gonna think you fell in.” But Agron doesn’t look concerned as he speaks, only amused.

Nasir is falling all right. “Who...what?”

“Your boyfriend, baby.”

“Oh. Him.” Nasir hurries to correct Agron. “He’s not my boyfriend. It’s only our fifth date.”

Agron laughs. “Okay. I believe you, Nasir.”

“Where are we going?” Nasir looks around as Agron begins to gently pull him away from the restroom door, Nasir’s feet moving automatically to follow Agron’s lead.

“Coatroom,” Agron tells him. It’s dark and the low chatter of the restaurant dims down as they enter the vestibule of the small coatroom.

The attendant looks up, bored. “Ticket, please?”

Agron passes what Nasir suspects is a twenty to the woman. “Give us a minute.”

Nasir’s stomach sinks with the thought that he only has a minute left with Agron.

“Hey.” Agron’s fingers curl around Nasir’s chin. “Nasir. Hey. It’s just a figure of speech. We have all night if you need it.”

Nasir sighs, pressing his face deeper into Agron’s warm palm. His hands have a mind of their own, rising to skim over hard chest in front of him.

Then he remembers something and takes a step backward, the illusion shattering as Agron hand falls away. “You have a boyfriend.” He recalls glimpsing a guy with dark hair and eyes sitting across from Agron. “If you’re cruising, I’m not interested.”

Agron grasps Nasir’s arm as Nasir attempts to dart away in disgust at both Agron and himself. “Ah. Him.”

“I have to…” Nasir pulls, but short of yelling for help, he’s not getting anywhere, especially since the attendant seems to have vanished from her post. “I…”

“Tiberius isn’t *my* boyfriend, either. And it’s our *first* date,” Agron says instead of letting Nasir go.

“On Valentine’s Day?” Nasir wonders aloud.

“He made the reservations.” Agron shrugs. “When I realized what day it fell on, I told him that it didn’t mean anything to me, not on our first date.”

“Ah.” But Nasir can’t kid himself; even if the guy is married, he’d go along with it to keep those strong hands touching him. “I see.”

“The guy’s a jerk. Dad’s some kind of military hot-shot. He’s probably too busy regaling the waiter with battle stories to even notice I’m not in my seat.”

“My guy’s a wine know-it-all.” Nasir finds himself relaxing the last tension in his body that resists the inevitability of Agron’s touch, doesn’t even stumble when Agron pulls him flush against his chest.

“Well aren’t we a pair,” Agron breathes into Nasir’s hair.

For the first time, Nasir doesn’t have to say anything, ask for what he needs, just nods against Agron’s chest.

*

Nasir has to give it to Agron: On the floor with his ass held open and leaking lube and cum while Agron realigns his cock and thrusts back in so hard Nasir slides forward on the kitchen tiles and nearly crashes into the dishwasher except for Agron’s hard hands gripping his waist to pull him back onto Agron’s dick. In their bed, Nasir’s back straining to arch under Agron’s weight, knee bent over Agron’s shoulder, Nasir scratching down his own torso when Agron grinds the head of his cock into Nasir’s prostate.

In Agron’s arms, when Agron stares at him, into him, Nasir kissing along the width of Agron’s collarbone, content that Agron is the one who’s caught him after all.


End file.
